A short man's most depressing blow

-You won't go without the guns. God loved! This is foolish. He's going to be killed. - She felt despair growing at alarming levels.

He had come there in a futile attempt to convince the boy to give up the absurd idea of ​​abducting the viscount's daughter. Jackie further away checked the farmhouse for safety.

-Damn it, Faith. The sword will only hinder me. The pistol and the dagger are enough. I'm not going to a duel. - Michael displayed confidence that was far from feeling.

The drizzle fell thin and insistent as he tossed the rope to get to the second floor of the colonial-style house. It had been relatively easy. Christina had once commented that her room was at the end of the hall. The rain was beginning to fall hard and violent, bringing terrible cold.

The house was too quiet! There was an unsettling silence as he advanced, wondering if he could find any slave or servant. There were groaning noises and a scream that finally caught his attention.

Michael stopped in front of the door with a furious hatred as he kicked it open.

The vision he had could make him burn in hell. It was Christina. His pale face wore a startled expression. Sitting in a bathtub she bathed in perfumed water, revealing her firm and beautiful breasts. Beside him, a very tall man stood up with a wicked smile on his face while the very fast girl covered her breasts. Victor Valerius' eyes went to the lanyard and the sword with immense exultation.

Michael took a deep breath with disgust and disgust for the girl. She didn't know the tall man in white clothes at her side, and she wouldn't have to. He had seen the wretch on the battlefield when Morgan's wife had been brutally murdered.

-Do I catch a date? - hatred stood out in his low voice.

His gaze was relentless and unforgiving when he faced his lover at the scene. Christina was unable to hold her gaze and lowered her mortified head. A terrible and inhuman hatred sustained him, although Christina showed guilt and shame. Valerius smiled again in a flowery and exaggerated curvature.

-Not. No way. We expected it, didn't we, Christina? Let me see? Your Highness?

Michael's intense anger was replaced by contempt. Christina swallowed, knowing he would never forgive her. The viscount that time had been very clear in ensuring that his daughter's encounters with her lover were over.

In spite of all her protests, she handed it over to Victor Valerius as a simple whore. He would never understand why she submitted it. He doubted terribly that any explanation could make a difference. The father had discovered the romance with his sudden malaise and fainting. Christina was sure he would kill her when she found out she was pregnant with her lover.

Pregnant with a lowly wolf, as the viscount had insulted her. In her desperation, without getting the help she had tried to protect their son in every way.

She screamed loudly and in terror when Victor jerked forward, reaching for the sword. God loved! Michael didn't even have one.

-Victor, no! Christina shouted again in despair.

She had agreed to submit to that man and his disgusting caresses if the boy's life was spared. The warning cry caused the sorcerer to release an angry plague.

-Oh, your highness. - Victor mocked viciously. - It's not my fault if there is an inequality in the weapons, am I?

Victor's provocation was not just about the size of the sharp blade he held and the difference in sizes. Victor was an enemy that should be respected. Nothing in life gave him more pleasure in killing or torturing a wolf.

- And would you just act like a gentleman? - Michael retaliated with the provocation.

He managed to dodge the first attack for a second and grabbed the chair, tossing it towards his enemy. The lack of a sword was a problem. I never would have expected that betrayal from Christina. There was a taste of gall in his mouth when he remembered the pleasure that that body offered him.

-How about surrendering to me as my prisoner? I can be considerate and guarantee you a quick and almost painless death.

Christina screamed in terror again, trying to weep out of the bathtub, which diverted the attention of the men who faced each other.

-I didn't order you to leave the bathtub or cover yourself. Let him see it exactly as it is. A common harlot. No decent witch would surrender to a despicable animal.

Christina never knew the burst of courage that invaded her from where she came. Neither she nor the child was going to survive in that man's hands.

-A common harlot who has a dowry that interests you very much, isn't it? - She dealt a blow to Victor's wounds.

He had never been rich. Years of loyal work had scarcely guaranteed resources to sustain the pleasures that pleased him or luxury. His creditors were becoming increasingly uncomfortable. He had almost no credit in the city. I was totally broke. Michael's gaze fell on her suspiciously. It was not the image of a satisfied lover in a man's arms. What the hell was going on there?

The distraction cost him dearly. His opponent's sword blade sliced ​​through him from end to end. The dagger flew away as it fell from his hand and his knees hit the stone floor, his cry of pain echoing that of terrified Christina. He barely managed to stop Victor's second blow by pulling his robe off the nearby chair and throwing it at him.

- It won't kill him. -Christina shouted bewildered. - You'll lose a fortune if you do that.

Michael didn't understand the threat in those words trying to keep his feet up in groaning in agony. He gritted his teeth in pain, looking for the window frame. He had brought the rope so he could bring the miserable traitor along. It wasn't going to be in the wizarding lands that he would bleed to death.

Christina felt the air escape from her lungs as she watched him disappear into the destroyed darkness. How easily he had believed in Valerius' farce! A numbing cold enveloped her like a shroud. She didn't feel the first blow that hit her and was thrown roughly against the ground.

- Miserable bitch. Do you think your lover will care about your screams now? Valerius exulted with wild pleasure as he removed the leather whip attached to his waist. - You will regret having messed with wolves like that.

She closed her eyes. At least he hoped death would welcome him as the whip came down relentlessly under the viscount's orders.

Even before dawn, the war had been declared between wolves and sorcerers. Alone in his library, the viscount had been found with his throat torn and his whole body drained of blood. That same day a midwife had been hurriedly called to help a near-death young woman found in the same house and the whole story had been drowned out by Valerius. He was not the type of man that people used to face.

Angrier than ever James de Macgrover roamed the place with angry expressions. A lich walked among them.